Aquarium
by Thundercatroar
Summary: Pre Legend of Korra. Once in a great while, fate takes mercy on those it wounds the worst. Companion piece to the stories: Chillin', And It's Beautiful: chapter two, and pre-story to Through the Seasons and Unfinished Sympathy.
1. Pianists

_The Legend of Korra_ was created by Michael Dante Di Martino, Bryan Konietzko, and is owned by Viacom Inc. No infringement on their property is implied, nor should be inferred.

 _Hey, Arnold!_ was created by Craig Bartlett and owned by Viacom Inc. No infringement on their property is implied, nor should be inferred. Don't worry, you'll have to have a slavish devotion to the show to get the references.

The title of this story, _Aquarium_ , and chapter titles _Pianists_ , _Fossils_ , and _Finale_ were composed by Camille Saint Saëns as part of the Carnival of Animals Suite. Though the compositions are public domain, no infringement on his beautiful work is implied, nor should be inferred.

Rated T

* * *

 _Para Acosta, gracias por su amabilidad a través de los años._

Aquarium

Chapter One: Pianists

Meant to symbolize the renewed unity of all the nations after the one hundred year war and the United Republic, the last rays of the setting sun filtered through the stained glass dome above the main hall of the museum, coloring the grained marble floor beneath with muted shades of fiery red, joyful yellow, flowing blue and earthy green.

With some shielding their eyes from the brightness overhead, others in wide-eyed wonder, children stared in awe at the long, full-sized articulated dragon skeleton from the fire nation that hung menacingly from steel wire tethering it to the ceiling. Ambient red hues from the dimming sunset fell over the valleys and ridges of its bleached, cracked horned skull; and bathed by the last burning rays of the day, it appeared as though the long dead creature had sprung to life, breathing hot flames through its long, serrated teeth once more.

Intermittently shadowed by the bones above, a revolving mobile constructed of airbender gliders slowly circled, powered by the rising heat of human bodies and currants generated by large fans on the ceiling. On the floor beneath, a secure glass case displayed a collection of air nation artifacts bequeathed by Avatar Aang from his personal collection, including traditional air nomad clothing, recipes for fruit pies and cakes baked by his friend and mentor, monk Gyatso, wind driven razors for head shaving, and a well-worn air bison whistle. Behind the display for those, in the middle of the gallery and guarded by signs admonishing _**do not touch**_ , sat a thoroughly unconvincing full-scale model of Avatar Aang's lifelong animal companion, Appa, its long, cracked wooden horns made crooked by gravity, the white shaggy faux fur covering its lumpy frame, yellowed by dust and matted by age.

Across the gallery, to the side in a diorama, reposed a taxidermy display of animals from the frigid water nations, both north and south poles. Their dull pelts damaged by benign neglect and artificial illumination from decades of exhibition, the snarling polar bear dog, silently howling arctic wolves, roaring tiger seals, and lowing arctic pandas still looked ferocious alongside their much smaller prey items of choice, ambling otter penguins, slippery mackerel trout, and nimble snow raccoons.

On display along with the animals, were mannequins dressed in the outdated garb of the northern and southern water tribes, their hard, unfeeling hands gripping the long wooden spears, bows, and sharp metal boomerangs the proud peoples of those lands still used to hunt with. Featured along those, were hunting canoes bedecked with nets, long oars dipping into imaginary arctic waters and paintings of larger ships accompanied by vivid descriptions of the ancient rite of passage for southern water tribe adolescents called ice dodging.

The entire six-month long display of treasures from each nation was in honor of the new, still undiscovered Avatar of the cycle who hailed from one of the poles of those frosty, distant lands, the first water bending Avatar since tragic Kuruk, well over four centuries ago. The last day of viewing, patrons and friends of Four Nations Natural History and Art Museum thought it fitting to see the exhibit away with a public gala, offering a myriad of refreshments donated by a generous up and coming local company.

While the temptation of a table generously laid with complimentary sweets along with liquefied, brightly dyed sugar in the form of punch beckoned most of the children in attendance, one small visitor didn't give so much as a passing glance to any of those diversions at all.

Thoroughly engrossed in _her_ favorite portion of the Avatar exhibit in the corner, mostly overlooked by the majority of museum patrons, she focused on the one representing the lands of the Earth Kingdom, and Kyoshi, the last great Avatar in its cycle.

Committing the curios to memory, she'd already seen them more times than she could count, but took the familiar sights in once more, because her mommy said it would be a long time before they would have the exhibit there again, if ever.

In an illuminated frame on the wall facing her, a large, over four hundred-year-old painting on loan from Avatar Kyoshi Shrine titled, _Birth of Kyoshi,_ hung in a large recess. According to the exhibit, it celebrated Avatar Kyoshi's simultaneous defeat of the evil despot, Chin the Conqueror, and the separation of her home, the seaside village of Koi, from the mainland of earth kingdom creating an island, later re-named in her honor.

Beside it, there was another diorama depicting a central earth kingdom bamboo forest featuring its native fauna, including a stuffed fire ferret, a fearsome tigerdillo missing half an upper canine crouched alongside a majestic, four point cat deer buck with a small pheasant hawk hanging limply from its mouth. To its side, mounted in a frame was a map depicting the migration routes of badger moles tunneling through their natural habitat, the high mountain ranges of northern earth kingdom, located on the outskirts of Omashu.

Prominently located in the center of the earth exhibit was a tall, illuminated vertical display containing the remaining articles of the last avatar's personal belongings on loan from the shrine dedicated to her memory, located on Kyoshi Island. Securely supported by a rounded wooden rod running transversely through the cabinet, the Avatar's dark green, gold trimmed jaspé kimono hung securely by its shoulders and sleeves, the vibrant vestment a testament to Kyoshi's exquisite taste in raiment.

The little girl standing in front of it wished she could touch the fine textured cloth or just bury her face in it, because in her imagination; it was just as soft as it was pretty to look at, faintly scented with jasmine.

Below the fine silk kimono sat two large, sturdy, custom crafted brown leather boots, and though they didn't have a size system for attire when she lived, by modern footwear charts, Kyoshi had the largest feet of any known Avatar to date, wearing a size fourteen and a half in a men's shoe. In the same display, above the boots and to the side of her kimono resting on a glass shelf, sat a carved wooden head that supported Avatar Kyoshi's mirror polished golden headdress, and to either side framing that, two small carved blocks of curly maple-oak wood which held her metal fans opened and upright.

One of the blades of the gilded fans was broken off from the body of the rest, lying directly below in front of it in two pieces, the faded green cording that once attached it, frayed and dangling downwards. In addition to the harm done to the one fan, the right side of Kyoshi's decorative fanned headdress was also slightly bent.

An information plaque sitting amongst the items explained the harm done to the artifacts as occurring during Avatar Aang's battle with the fire nation's Special Forces detachment, Colonel Mongke and the Rough Rhinos in Chin Village during Avatar Day while serving out the sentence of community service determined by a rabiroo court for crimes neither he, nor his predecessors committed.

A perfectionist by nature, the novice engineer regarded the bent metal of the headdress and damaged fan with outright _disgust_.

If they gave her a half a chance, she could fix the headdress easily with a sandbag and a rubber mallet in just a few minutes, the bends in the metal weren't even that bad, and when repaired, you wouldn't even be able to tell it had been damaged. Though the fan would take a little more time and be more difficult to repair, she knew she could do it, but her daddy wouldn't allow her to weld or even solder on her own yet because he said she was too little and it was dangerous.

It didn't matter anyway; the plaque said that the clerics in charge of preserving the late Avatar's belongings forbade the repair of the items. As Kyoshi was one of Avatar Aang's previous incarnations, by law, her belongings were determined to be his to use or destroy at his discretion, and that the damage preserved the provenance of each piece.

Personally, she thought it was dumb to allow anything broken to remain so, especially things that were so well-made and beautiful. Every time she saw the bent and broken curios, it perturbed the skilled girl greatly because she knew that Avatar Kyoshi or at least whoever made the fans and headdress would _want_ them repaired, she knew _she_ would, and one time she even went as far as to ask her father if they could volunteer to fix them for free. In response, her father ruffled her hair, and though he agreed with her, he advised to let it go because even a couple of super geniuses like them couldn't fight city hall. When he said that, her mommy told him to stop boasting, but then she gave them that funny sideways look with a smile that always made them laugh.

Always saving the best for last, moving away from the well lit glass case; she sidestepped three times to her most favorite part of the exhibit, staring upwards in rapt wonder.

No matter how many times she saw the encased object, she _never_ tired of looking at it, and seeking to get as close to it as physically possible, she plastered her hands onto the once clean surface, marring the clear glass with her fingerprints and a long smear from her nose for good measure.

Studying the display case above, and its security system, she'd been reading a book about locksmithing for the past few weeks. Though the mechanisms on the case looked different today than they did on her last visit, she still bet she could have the sword out of that case in one-minute tops, that is, if she still had the screwdriver her mommy found down the back of her dress before they left the house that afternoon.

Of course, she would never _actually_ take the object encased in front of her because that would be stealing, and stealing was a bad thing to do. There were too many people around the place watching for her to do anything if she wanted to anyway, so with a wistful sigh, the little girl settled for only looking as she flattened her palms against the smooth glass and attempted to pull herself upwards once more.

* * *

Being later in the day, the crowd inside dwindled from the numbers it had when they arrived, so the couple had an opportunity to sit on one of the benches in a side gallery, enjoying a panorama depicting the growth of Republic City from its founding to modern day.

Truly, the city of dreams and opportunity, being a dirty ragamuffin with a lot of ambition, the metropolis gave him a chance to prosper where he might not have had the ability elsewhere, and now that he was wealthy, he was going to return what he was given as he did today. The museum directors actually sought him out for financial help, and he and his wife were happy to oblige.

Taking a nip out of one of the cookies their company paid for, the generous donor admired the complicated piece. "Just look at the way the artist captured the minute details of the steam engine. All that raw power, it looks so _real_ , as though it could leap out of the painting and crash right through the wall and to the street!" His companion gave him a strange look as he pronounced in wonder, "I wish I could construct something as magnificent as that."

The beautiful woman beside him looked around the gallery, they were the only couple in the wing, and the few other people around found their attention diverted elsewhere. "You _have_ ; in fact, you've built things _more_ magnificent." Taking a cookie from the small paper plate sitting between them, she lowered a cup of punch from her lips, then glancing around at the paintings and sculptures of well-endowed ladies, she wondered with humor as she whispered, "Why can't you just gawk at the nudes like all the _other_ men?"

"There's no need," He chuckled, whispering back naughtily as his eyebrows rose suggestively, "I have _already_ seen the perfect nude."

"Hiro Sato!" Yasuko hissed through her teeth. He still shamelessly grinning, she tried to be serious and punish her misbehaving husband accordingly, but ultimately wound up stifling laughter, a blush tinting her cheeks while lightly chastising him. "I can't take you _anywhere_ can I?" The mischievous man wondered if he indeed had gone a bit far in their rather open milieu until he heard, "Flatterer."

Looking around and to his sides, and kind of glad that she actually _wasn't_ there, he questioned, "Didn't we bring a kid with us?"

Finding more humor in it than worry, the impressed mother informed, "Oh, she managed to slip away a few minutes ago, but the escape artist is _just_ fine." Motioning over towards the main gallery with her head, she added, "I've been keeping an eye on her while you've been misbehaving and waxing poetic about your favorite choo choo again."

Hiroshi chuckled, "I count ourselves fortunate she stood still long enough this afternoon for the family portrait to be taken and didn't offer to take the camera apart to see how it works." He then said with guarded tone, " _You_ like trains _too_ , Mrs. Inventor, spirits know you spent enough of our childhood ripping off rides on them every chance you got." An eyebrow cocked upwards. "Trolleys too."

Yasuko astutely argued, "The conductor knew all along that we kids were filching rides on the back steps of the city trolleys and didn't toss us off, so technically, it _wasn't_ stealing, but a generous gift."

She nodded when her husband added with grateful sadness, "He was a sweet old man." With a sigh, Hiroshi pulled a watch out of his pocket by its gold chain and opened it, finding the time nearing six o'clock. "Since we're already out, what do you say we make a great end of a perfect day and go out for dinner?" Knowing the answer before he even asked, "How does Kwong's sound?"

Looking at the clock on the wall, Yasuko eyes lit at the prospect of dining at her favorite establishment, but then they fell, "Kwong's sounds good, but we don't have a reservation, it's much too late to call for one, the place is _bound_ to be filling up by now, and by the time we got there, we probably wouldn't even be able to get a _foot_ in the door much less a table."

"Now of that, I wouldn't be so sure." Hiroshi suggested with a smile, "I slipped into the study and called before we left home; I figured it would take awhile to pry Asami off that display case today, so our reservation is open until seven." Rather pleased with his efforts, he stated, "I even got us your favorite table along the back wall." Optimistically he ended, "We might even get to see some of those pro-benders that you and Asami love so much tonight."

"You got _Yakone's_ booth?" Yasuko eyed her husband, highly impressed with him. "There's a waiting list as long as your arm to sit _there_ , how in the world did you swing _that_?"

Hiroshi chuckled as he reached into his right hand coat pocket and produced a small box neatly wrapped with wrinkled newspaper and presented it to his wife on the flat of his palm. "All I had to do was mention it is your birthday today and the manager couldn't pencil us in fast enough." Shrugging he theorized, "Just between you and me, I think he's kind of sweet on you."

"No, it's that you're a good tipper, and you're spoiling _me_ rotten too, Hiro, you've already given me _too_ much today." Sighing with a shake of her head, Yasuko added, "The car _alone_."

"To be fair, Asami and I _did_ go halfsies on that." Yasuko smiled sideways, and grinning, Hiroshi moved to put the present back into his pocket with a singsong voice. "Okay, since you think I'm being too frivolous, I _suppose_ I can just take _this_ one last gift back since you don't want it." A custom piece paid for months in advance, he couldn't return the item even if he wanted, but still, the threat sounded good enough to prompt swift action from his wife.

Mrs. Sato deftly slid the small box from between Hiroshi's fingers and smiled equally, pointing at him playfully. "Let's not go _nuts_ here; I didn't say I didn't _want_ it." A brief kiss planted on his rosy cheek, Hiroshi's loud laughter pierced the silent decorum of the gallery, a security guard peered inside to see where the jubilant racket emanated from, but satisfied it wasn't another robbery attempt, he went back to his post.

Hiroshi sat in anticipation as Yasuko opened his last gift to her for the day. He couldn't wrap the Satomobile speedster sedan he and their daughter custom built for her, but all of the other gifts he'd given her that day had been draped in satiny colored paper hidden in multiple boxes with huge ribbons tied to them to open as puzzles.

This last gift in particular was the most meaningful one to him though, because he spent a lot of time planning its execution.

When they were courting, and later, as newlyweds, in between toiling for the bare necessities of life and getting his idea of an automobile for the everyman off the ground, though she insisted he didn't, he _was_ able to scrape together enough money to buy small presents for Yasuko's birthdays. With funds nearly non-existent and being rather creative when it came to solutions for problems, Hiroshi wrapped presents for Yasuko with clean newspapers he found discarded in garbage cans in lieu of expensive wrapping papers that came form a store.

When his invention became a success and they had more money than they knew to do with, Hiroshi continued wrapping gifts for his wife in newspaper on anniversaries and birthdays for the sake of nostalgia. Though his gifting tended to be much more extravagant now, it was a reminder of the hard times they triumphed over together, and how grateful he was that Yasuko endured poverty, hardship, and forwent better prospects, all for the love given by a boy with nothing to his name but a few tarnished coins in his threadbare pockets and big dreams.

Divested of its humble covering, Hiroshi was delighted when Yasuko opened the ornate green and black grained clamshell box in her hand and pulled her fingers across the bright silver bracelet with a look of awe on her face. With a tentative smile, Hiroshi wondered as she gazed in silence upon the unique piece of jewelry, "Do you like it?" Moving the plate of cookies between them aside, he scooted closer to Yasuko, pointing downwards. "A while back I searched all the shops in town looking for something special, but I didn't like the selections, so I designed this and sent the sketch to an earth kingdom jeweler to replicate." Rather proud of the fact that he kept the surprise hidden so well from his wife until that day, he crowed, "Actually, you brought it in with the rest of the mail the day it arrived; it was in the box you asked me about and I told you it was a part for a special project."

Yasuko shook her head grinning. "Oh, I _remember_ that, you ran so fast towards the basement, I thought perhaps it was another car or an engine for your model railroad setup and you didn't want me to know."

Hiroshi chuckled, "Nope, it wasn't a choo choo _this_ time."

Yasuko laughed, "You always _were_ good at hiding things." Drawing the bracelet out of its decorative box, she allowed the cool links to flow through her fingers, tiny rods of platinum intricately meshed together to form a strong, flexible, but achingly delicate chain. Admiring the fine design and notable craftsmanship of the highly polished piece, Yasuko could only gush, "Oh, goodness, Hiro, it, it's _beautiful_." Then she said guiltily, "I did mean it when I said that you really shouldn't have spent so much money on me though." The conscientious woman wondered, "Do you realize how many more people we could help with what you probably spent on this?"

Hiroshi dismissed her concern. "We feed half of Dragon Flats already, and donate _plenty_ of money to other charities too, besides, who else other than Asami am I going to spend on but you?" The industrialist took her hand as he appreciatively continued, "You defended me when people were calling me a fool, and stuck by me when things were just about as bad as they could get, you were always helping or encouraging me; you _still_ do. You're the _real_ reason why I'm the successful man I am today, sweetheart, so if anyone deserves to be lavished upon, it's you."

A blush adorning her cheeks, Yasuko humbly answered, "You know I didn't do all those things for the promise of a payoff, but because I believed in you." She gazed lovingly into his striking eyes. "Still do." Knowing better than to argue against the gift because it would hurt his pride, the grateful wife gently stroked her husband's cheek. "Thank you, Hiro, I love it," She drew his face downwards until their foreheads and eyes met, "But most of all because _you_ designed it." Smiling, Yasuko held up the glinting chain and produced her wrist. "Put it on?"

Hiroshi's eyebrow arched, and with a sideways smile he took the bracelet in one hand, Yasuko's in the other and clasped it on, bringing her knuckles to his lips, brushing them with his mustache and the hint of a kiss while gazing into her brilliant green eyes when done.

Wrapping an arm around the other's shoulder, they sat in silence enjoying the moment, and then peering through the large entryway to where his daughter was located, Hiroshi observed, "There's an awful lot of people in that gallery now, I don't know if it's such a good idea to allow Asami to wander around without one of us with her for so long. Perhaps we should…"

Leaning forward to look herself, Yasuko dismissed his concerns. "Aw, she's having fun, let her be." Yasuko waved her hand dismissively, "My parents used to let me roam around the entire city for _hours_ by myself when I was her age all the time and I was okay."

"Oh, of that I am _well_ aware." Deciding to pick a benign fight because riling her was so easy _and_ fun, Hiroshi wondered, "How much of your homemade spy equipment _did_ you go through way back when?"

Her head wobbled defiantly as her playfully teasing voice was painted with nothing but love, "You makin' fun of me again, shoeshine boy?" Yasuko pointed at her mischievous mate with half a cookie and smirked. "I _do_ believe that I saved your rear end with one of my better inventions that day and you should be a little more grateful."

Incredulously, Hiroshi offered, "A flyswatter?"

Yasuko corrected with a raised index finger, "An _electric_ flyswatter, hotman." With a grin that could be described as nothing less than mischievous pride, she added, "It worked even better than I thought!" With unparalleled joy, she ended, "I _still_ can't believe it burned a smoky hole clean through his pants."

The industrialist rolled his eyes. Being eight years old, and not really a fighter, he was terrified at the time, first by the older bully that had him hoisted up by his shirt against a wall, and then _tenfold_ by the protective actions of his unexpected savior. He now remembered the encounter fondly though, because it was the first time he met the feisty, funny little girl who would become the love of his life. "I could have taken him." Hiroshi answered with a bit of doubt.

She knew she saved his shoe shining money _and_ the trouble of a getting a black eye that day, but she humored him. "Of course you could, I just got to him first. " Hiroshi cut her a look, but Yasuko smiled and got back to the original topic. "Anyway, it will do Asami good to be left alone for a little bit, we can't allow her to run loose in the factory, so it will make her feel like she's a big girl without mom and dad watching her every move each second." She waved a dismissive hand. "Besides, our little genius is too wrapped up in looking at that sword again to get into _too_ much trouble." She hated the look of disappointment on Asami's face before they left, but it was for the best as the doting mother's eyebrow rose. "She wanted to bring it with her, but I made your chief mechanic leave that new toolbox you bought for her at home."

"I wondered why she looked so disappointed." Hiroshi noted with humor that his wife _obviously_ did not appreciate.

"It's pretty bad I have to frisk Asami like a cop every time we go somewhere now, and it's a good thing I did _today_ too." With more than a bit of suspicion, Yasuko's eyes squinted. "Actually, I think she _knew_ I was going to make her keep the toolbox at home, because after I took _that_ away from her, I found a flat-head screwdriver tucked down the back of her dress."

"Spirits, woman! " Hiroshi chortled at the outrageous imagery. "You ought to be proud of her for being so smart in distracting you, it was a gambit."

Yasuko harshly whispered, "Laugh it up, funny guy, but just the other day I caught her using one of my bras as a tool belt, now it's so stretched out I can't even wear it anymore." Incredulously she ended, "She put a hammer and a wrench through the straps, and then put greasy rags in one cup, and a sweet bun for a snack into the other and tied it around her waist!"

Hiroshi grinned, full of pride in their clever child. "Asami is a brilliant, sneaking genius, exactly as her _stunningly_ beautiful mother."

"Yeah, yeah," Yasuko cut her eyes at him with a sideways smile. "Quit suckin' up." Hiroshi laughed, and with a smirk, she added, "That girl is too smart for her own good, and don't you dare delight in it!" She crossed her arms. "Have you even _tried_ to answer a telephone or so much as make a piece of toast at the house lately?" He was going to answer, but thought better of it, and tightly closing his lips with a smile, his wife rolled her eyes. Expressing relief, because just as her husband, their daughter was capable of _anything_ Yasuko stated, "Well, at least I know she doesn't have any contraband on her _now_ , so unless she finds something lying around this place, she can't _Sato_ that display case open or disassemble anything _here_ , thank the spirits."

Hiroshi questioned incredulously, "Our last name is a verb now?" His wife nodded as he scoffed, "Asami has more sense than to do something crazy like _that_ anyway."

She wasn't so sure, and slowly turning her head towards her husband, eyebrow cocked upwards, Yasuko's response was a silent, disbelieving look that said it all.

All her husband had to proffer was a laughing question, "What?"

Recalling one of the _many_ instances of Asami's resourcefulness married with her dexterous hands and absconding skills that culminated in events just short of utter destruction, she refreshed Hiroshi's rather biased, selective memory. "Have you forgotten the four nations festival parade? That antique cabbage cart?" Hiroshi placed his hand over his eyes as she dryly ended, " _I_ remember the cabbage cart."

Hiroshi stood in defense of their beloved child. "Asami was little and didn't _know_ any better!" He whispered harshly, "That rotten old _fart_ blew the whole thing out of proportion anyway!"

Yasuko covered her mouth after a loud, uncontrolled laugh issued forth, wholly failing in the attempt to be serious. "Hiroshi!"

"Well, it's the truth, Gan Lan Senior only made the huge deal out of it because of who we are, not what Asami did!" He huffed with indignation, holding his hand out as a measurement of height. "Wanting an innocent little kid to go to jail for trying to be helpful and repair his precious little pushcart?"

Yasuko looked to her side and down. "I hate to say it, but define innocent, because it all kinda' _was_ started by 'Sami."

"How was Asami supposed to know the stinking thing would crumple like a house of cards when she tightened the loose bolt? If they were so _concerned_ about the safety of it, they would have kept a better eye on it and never parked it on that steep of a hill to begin with. _Anybody_ could have come along and tried to sit on it, or brushed up against it and it would have fallen anyway. It just happened that Asami found it before anyone else did, so that was poor planning on _their_ part." Hiroshi held up a hand demonstratively. "Besides, the rickety old pile of junk looked like it had already been smashed to bits and cobbled back together several times _decades_ before Asami ever laid _a finger_ on it."

Yasuko pursed her lips while remembering the event because it was unforgettable.

They turned their heads for only a _moment_ to look at the float Future Industries sponsored, but evidentially that was all the time Asami needed to slip away so fast they hadn't a clue.

Yasuko didn't even _want_ to know where their girl got her hands on a wrench that big.

Despite the passing of two years, the memory of the top heavy cart performing a drunken looking waltz down the steep cobblestone street on the main drag still remained fresh in her mind.

When a rear support eventually broke off the cart, it veered towards a low curb and shattered when it crashed into a hydrant. The damage was bad enough already, but the real mayhem began when the front of the cart shattered and then collapsed onto its side in splinters, unleashing several dozen large cabbages to bounce down the parade route, resembling decapitated heads as they rolled downhill. All along the street, the tumbling vegetables tripped several helpless members of the benevolent order of saber tooth moose-lions, and made the entire police department marching band topple atop each other in a chain reaction, bending tsungi horns and denting gongs in their wake.

Several floats had to veer off course to avoid the piles of lodge member and policemen helplessly rolling around in the street, but how the fire prevention float that police chief Toph Beifong rode atop lit on fire and set off the entire fireworks display reserved for later that evening, _no one_ had a clue.

Being barely three years old, and not understanding the discord she'd sewn with her innocent actions, it didn't help that Asami was absolutely _delighted_ with the chaos she created, laughing loudly and clapping her hands while jumping in place and cheering for more. When the source of the trouble was located, everyone was rightfully angry with her, Hiroshi, and upset with their daughter.

Though they were ticketed and had to pay restitution for the destruction which was fair, thank the spirits that the chief of police and her daughter was there to settle everyone down and talk some sense into the crowd, because Yasuko wasn't so sure they would have gotten out of there in one piece without their interference and protection.

Yasuko cast Hiroshi a wary eye. "Granted, yes, mister Gan Lan senior _did_ overreact, but 'Sami just turned _five_ , you've been teaching her how to do more complicated things, and who only knows what she's capable of _now_."

Hiroshi laughed, "You make her sound like a product of evil, she's just a little kid."

Yasuko lifted her hands while looking upwards, "Quite frankly, I wouldn't put it past her to be able to construct a time bomb out of an alarm clock, a couple of batteries, and a pack of sausages!"

Hiroshi shook his head. "She can only take clocks _apart_ now; Asami hasn't learned how to put them back together yet." He cocked an eyebrow. "Sausages?" When his wife gave him a look, Hiroshi stooped down a little and began shaking his fist, imitating a toothless, well-dressed elderly man they had the pleasure of meeting through Asami's adept cleverness, and a moment of benign inattention on their part. " _My cabbages_!"

Laughing would only spur him on, so Yasuko sighed, wrapping her arm around her husband's back, affectionately placing her head on his strong shoulder. Making a slicing motion through the air to the side with her other hand, she observed, "Well, one thing's for certain, Hiroshi Sato, you and Asami are cut from the _same_ cloth." She eyed him. "You couldn't deny that kid is yours if even if you _wanted_ to."

Hiroshi smiled and pressed his lips to his wife's temple assuring, "I _never_ would, but don't think for a moment she's not inherited some of _your_ gift for mischief too." He exhaled a breath, looking at Asami in the main gallery again. "I suppose now that the Avatar exhibit is closing I'll have to make Asami a little sword of her own now _that_ one is leaving."

"You better _not_ make a replica of that thing for her!" Yasuko released her embrace and pointed her finger towards him, utilizing the most classic excuse a mother ever used in the history of man to prevent their offspring from having _any_ fun whatsoever. "She'll put her eye out!" She shivered. "Hard telling how many heads and other appendages that blade has sliced off while the Avatar's woman held the other end of it." Yasuko scoffed, "The name of it _alone_ is enough to give you the creeps!"

"But Deathsong is such a sweet, non-threatening name." Having no intention of making their child an edged weapon in the first place, Hiroshi _innocently_ asked, "What harm could it do?"

"You know that if Asami loses an eye, her depth perception will be completely shot which will hinder her mechanical skills." Knowing he was baiting her, Yasuko covered one eye with her hand and playfully snarled as she produced a hooked finger with the other. "So ye have a decision t'make, matey, do ye want to train an engineer or raise a buccaneer?"

"Okay," He conceded, "No sword," He ended wistfully as he looked upwards, "Even though it _would_ be flamin' to have _another_ pirate in the family." Yasuko shot her husband a dirty look he conveniently didn't see, and after checking his pocket watch once more, Hiroshi nodded towards his daughter, who was on tiptoes and gripping the wooden side frames of the glass display case holding the fabled weapon. "We have a little time to spare, so let's give her a couple more minutes before we leave." Yasuko nodded agreement, and then Hiroshi made a grandiose gesture with a sweep of his hand towards the painting, cutting his eyes towards her to catch her reaction. "Oh _yeah_ , look at the headlight on _that_!"

The long suffering woman framed her forehead with her hand, shaking her head while fighting a smile, settling enough to announce, "You are a filthy minded animal, Hiroshi Sato, and not the _least_ bit entertaining."

Proud of finally getting her cat goat, Hiroshi chortled, "Hah, now you know _that's_ not true." He crossed his arms. "I'm hilarious!"

"Oh, you're _something_ alright." Giving him a last chiding look, finally sighing because he was incorrigible, Yasuko picked up her cup of punch to take a sip, but inspected it instead. She had already enjoyed several cups of the over-sweetened beverage over the duration of their visit, but it wasn't until then that she noticed the brightly colored liquid in her cup was as vibrant as any work of art located in the museum. "Now there's a color found in nature." Her husband gave her a quizzical look, she uncomfortably shifted and whispered, "It was good, but boy, that cheap red stuff runs right through you doesn't it?" Rising with purpose, Yasuko requested, "Keep an eye on Asami; I'll be back in a moment."

Hiroshi leaned to the side and called after his hustling wife as she exited the gallery, "It wasn't cheap!"


	2. Fossils

_The Legend of Korra_ was created by Michael Dante Di Martino, Bryan Konietzko, and is owned by Viacom Inc. No infringement on their property is implied, nor should be inferred.

 _Hey, Arnold!_ was created by Craig Bartlett and is owned by Viacom Inc. No infringement on their property is implied, nor should be inferred. Don't worry, you'll _still_ have to have a slavish devotion to the show to get all the references, Big Caesar.

The title of this chapter comes from _Fossils_ , composed by Camille Saint Saëns as part of the _Carnival of Animals Suite_. Though the composition is public domain, no infringement on his beautiful work is implied, nor should be inferred.

Rated **T**

* * *

Aquarium

Chapter Two: Fossils

Caught up in her revelry, a pleasantly occupied girl in the main gallery had not noticed she'd gathered quite an impressive audience to her benign antics.

To the side, green and gold-garbed women leaned against the wall, or stood to the side whispering to one another in hushed tones and indulged in adoring giggles.

Grinning because it was so adorable, the eldest of them motioned for silence with a downward motion of her hand so as not to disturb the girl and interrupt the _only_ amusing part of a day mostly consumed by either boring guard duty or preparing to escort their part of the Avatar's treasures back to Kyoshi Island shrine.

As the young girl continued to struggle, the eldest adult took pity, striking upon an idea before turning to a guard standing to the side, and after a brief conversation then agreement, she left.

* * *

She had already tried jumping to see a little better, but that didn't work.

Gripping the edges of the thick case in the complex endeavor of pulling herself up only served to make her slip downwards, but the persistent five year old struggled to stay on tiptoes as she swayed in her little red dress and shiny black patent leather shoes, just tall enough for a close look at the item she so coveted.

Satisfied she was going to get as physically close to it as she could, her hand was so close to the object inside, she could almost feel the heft of its cool, rounded grip in her hand.

Illuminated by a bright, hot looking bulb mounted in the roof of the display case, the edged weapon rested on its pommel with the blade oriented upright, juniper boughs serving as decoration behind it, their sharp browning needles littering the clear shelf of glass below. The entire piece was no longer than a foot and a half in length, its shining silver blade sporting a deep rounded fuller extending from the tip of the damascened blade all the way down to its hilt, the secret of its painstaking manufacture lost to the ages.

Despite its age, estimated to be over four hundred years old, its black, heavily lacquered grip and pommel shone as brightly as the day it was burnished by the smith who created it, the curved ebony of the grip broken only by the golden rings spacing it, along with fine highlights of the same metal decorating the hilt.

To her father's excitement for her resourcefulness and mother's lamentation because she took _everything_ not nailed down in the house apart, despite her young age, she already demonstrated a gift for grasping objects with the mind of an engineer. Even with these talents untrained, the girl still had a good eye, admiring the striking weapon as a functional, priceless work of art and a masterpiece well ahead of its time, appreciating its functionality as opposed to its monetary value.

In short, this sword was special, _beautiful_ in its terrible nature, and though she didn't understand exactly why, she wanted it more than anything else she'd ever seen in her entire life.

Tracing her fingers down the cold glass, her hand _itched_ to grasp it, if only once.

When she told her mother she wanted to own Deathsong, mommy said it would be over her dead body, because swords were dangerous, and she could put her eye out.

The second recourse was her father, and whenever she asked him for things, the charming girl knew more times than not she'd receive them, but even though she desired it desperately, she had sense enough to not ask him to buy _this_ for her. Therefore, in lieu of ownership, she begged her parents every week to take her to see the sword, up until the point in which it had been stolen and missing for several weeks.

It angered her that someone would take anything that didn't belong to them, especially something as beautiful as this, and she worried that no one would ever get to see it again. A few days ago though, she read in the paper that a lady who looked like she was from the circus found the sword and then returned it to the museum. Her mother was happier about it than she was for some reason, and even went as far as to cut the article from the newspaper and paste it in the old, tattered red scrapbook she kept in her father's study.

Overjoyed it was back, and pestering her parents the entire week to take her for one last look, a glance towards the large clock on the wall made her wish she didn't know how to tell time, because soon, the museum would be closing.

After today, _her_ sword would be gone, she'd never get to see it again, and after a few more minutes of ogling, the young girl turned her head to hear the all too familiar announcement she had come to dread.

" _Attention attendees of Republic City Museum of Art and Four Nations History, the museum will close in fifteen minutes. All rear and side exits are now locked, please use the main egress in front of the building."_

Footfalls reverberated off the polished floors and vaulted ceiling as children scattered and adults shuffled to round them up, art students packed supplies into bags and folded their easels to depart, but the determined attendee lingered in the main hall, hoping no one would take note of her as she ignored the museum's invitation to leave.

As the sound of something wooden scooting on the floor directly behind made her jump, a shadow fell over the girl's shoulders when a humorous, soft voice announced generously, "Here, my dear, I believe this will help you grow a few inches taller in short order."

Looking upwards and behind herself, the first thing she noticed was a perfectly painted white face with red and black highlighting bright amber eyes looking down with kindness, her red lips smiling. Her eyes moved downwards to examine the woman's silken green robes accentuated by golden cord, lamellar armor, and then back up again to the beautiful, mirror polished headdress that adorned her forehead, decorative tassels lazily dancing beside her cheeks. More awestruck than frightened by the stranger's sudden appearance, the little girl stepped atop the stool, pointed towards a more detailed study of a like-dressed woman hanging on the wall across the gallery and astutely noted, "Hey, you look just like that lady!"

Relishing the young audience, and honored to represent her home and the traditions begun by the prestigious avatar, the costumed woman made a graceful, demonstrative movement with her hand and arm upwards towards the painting of Avatar Kyoshi. "It is no coincidence my friends and I wear the same face, that is Lady Kyoshi from Earth Kingdom, one of the greatest Avatars who ever lived. We are all members of the Kyoshi warriors, and we take our appearance from her. Ever since the Avatar separated her home village from the earth kingdom mainland, there have always been women who choose to join our ranks and protect the island from those who would harm it, honoring Avatar Kyoshi's memory and protecting her legacy."

"Wow. " The reverent girl studied the painting for a moment admiring Avatar Kyoshi's high cheekbones, red lips, emerald green eyes, and then said with awe, "She's so _pretty_ ," Then she looked up at the rendering again with another observation, "But why doesn't she have any _hair_?" Scrutinizing the image more closely, then hiding her lips with her hand from the other Kyoshi warriors, Asami stood on tiptoes and wondered with a polite whisper in the elder's ear as though the long dead Avatar could hear, "Was the avatar lady bald?"

She'd never really noticed such, but the mysterious woman beside her framed her chin with her fingers studying the artwork hanging from the wall and agreed with a chuckle. "Yes, she was _very_ pretty, but no, Avatar Kyoshi wasn't bald, dear, it's just that her headdress covered her bangs. If you look a little closer at the other painting of her hanging on the wall over there, you'll see that she had a ponytail, though as much as she fought, especially in her younger days, I would wager she tended to keep her hair short." She pointed to her own head and the traditional bob haircut pulled tight with a short ponytail and hidden behind her own headdress. "Along with bending, Avatar Kyoshi was just as comfortable fighting her battles hand to hand. When you grapple with opponents, having long hair is a disadvantage, it gets in the way and it can give your challenger something to grab onto and control you with." With a smile the warrior winked, "So if you're planning a career in mischief such as ours, in the future it would be advisable to keep those lovely locks of yours cropped short."

Such an idea was outlandish and the young girl gaped at the Kyoshi warrior as though she was stark raving insane for merely suggesting such a criminal thing.

Grabbing a fistful of black locks, the little girl curled them defensively in her small fingers. "No way I'm _ever_ gonna' cut any of _my_ hair off!" Proud of her long shiny black mane because people said it looked exactly like her mother's, she added, "I bet there's a way that you can fight real good and _still_ keep your hair long."

The painted woman chuckled as she motioned downwards towards the girl in an effort to calm her. "No worries, dear, I'm sure that if anyone so passionate could find a way, it would be you." She cast the child a sidelong glance, admiring her dainty, but short, red painted nails. "I pity the enemy that makes you break a nail, little warrior."

The little girl announced with all the confidence in the world, "They'd be _dead_ as a 'possum chicken!" All the warriors burst out into loud laughter, and pointing at the golden rods protruding from the woman's obi with interest, she wondered, "How do you fight with chopsticks?"

The warrior answered with shameless delight, "Believe me, when you're fighting on a rolling ship's deck cluttered with idiotic pirates, their bumbling captain who secretly wished he'd become a dentist, and all you have is a feather, two eggs, a barrel of molasses, and a questionably sane United Forces commander for backup, chopsticks make _terrific_ emergency weapons." The girl gave the woman a quizzical look as she explained, "These are fans, they're simply closed for the moment." With one fluid movement, she grabbed both golden fans from her robes, snapping them open dramatically, but as she slid her right leg out to the side for a dynamic kneeling stance, an old knee injury immediately rewarded what was once her prowess with sharp, unforgiving pain. When her breath hitched and the child looked at her with concern, her companions rushed forward to help, but the elder held up her hand with an appreciative smile and they backed away.

Due to her lineage, she couldn't really _help_ it, but lamenting being such a show-off, she tried not to show discomfort as she rose and her hip produced a sickening sounding pop, another unkind reminder of the final decision she made a few weeks prior. After straightening her leg and bad knee back to a less painful position, the pained woman had wise advice for the little girl in front of her. "Never get old, kid."

Distracting the child from the notice of her discomfort, the Kyoshi warrior turned her head curiously. "My friends and I have seen you viewing this part of the Avatar exhibit quite a bit over its time here, you must like it a lot."

Enthused to have a much better view of it, her eyes lit with excitement as her finger pressed against the glass display case. "I don't like it, I _love_ it!" Pointing towards the black handled sword, leaving yet another tiny, smudged fingerprint on the glass, she smiled. "This is my most favorite part of the _whole_ thing!" With a frown, she admitted, "I just wish it wasn't leaving tonight, I want it to stay here forever so I can see it some more."

The warrior nodded, having context for such herself. "I know, dear, but all good things must come to an end, we wouldn't appreciate them when they come along as much if they didn't." The elder crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow towards Asami with a sideways smile. "Most young ladies your age like dollies instead of deadly weapons."

Having heard enough of that at school where the boys _and_ girls teased her for being a tomboy, she admitted, "I don't really like dolls all that much." Brightly she added, "I _do_ love machines and cars though, my mommy and daddy are teaching me how to build and fix them!"

"Absolutely nothing wrong with that, my dear, it's good to be interested in all sorts of different things, being well-rounded comes in mighty handy too." The girl beamed as her new friend added as an afterthought, "You know, when I was around your age we didn't even _have_ cars."

With a gleam of mischief, brightly the little girl stated, "I can't _wait_ until _I'm_ old enough to drive!"

"I understand how you feel, but don't be in _too_ big a hurry to grow up," The older woman winked, "When you get to be my age, all you'll want is to be young again." Looking around she wondered with concern for the child's welfare, "Are you here by yourself, little one?"

"No, my mommy and daddy are here." The youngster's nose wrinkled as she pointed in the general direction of her parents in the opposing gallery. "Today is mom's birthday and they're in there, looking at paintings of naked people's butts to celebrate."

The innocent point of view garnered another round of laugher from all the Kyoshi warriors, the loudest emanating from the eldest; she had to lean on the display case beside her for support. Cackling, she observed naughtily, "That'll certainly make it memorable!" The young girl failed to see what was so funny, and still giggling, the older woman cracked a wide grin. "Oh, I like _you_ kid, what's your name?"

Twisting the toe of her shiny dress shoe into the floor, she said with a smile, extending her small hand upwards, "I'm Asami, Asami Sato."

As she shook the little girl's hand, the surname sounded familiar though she couldn't quite place it, and the green robed guardian framed her powdered white chin with her index finger and thumb, and then pointed towards the girl. "Well, Asami Sato, you've got a _lot_ of spirit, in fact, you've go so much of it, you could _easily_ be one of us." Turning to look at her charges with a playful wink and then back at Asami, the cheerful woman made the offer of a lifetime. "How would _you_ like to become an honorary Kyoshi Warrior today?"

"Really?" Asami's brilliant green eyes lit up as the women behind their leader smiled. "I can be one of you?"

"I'm Grand Mistress and in charge of new recruits, so of course you may! " Squaring her shoulders, the woman placed her hands on her hips. "Well, the first thing we must do, warrior Asami, is get you into uniform." The women in the background giggled when Asami mimicked their leader's serious posture in accordance with her rise in martial stature. "We don't have any robes for you to wear, but we'll do the next best thing." To Asami's glee, and the ladies standing to the side's entertainment, the tall woman grinned widely and pointed towards the top of Asami's head with a playful request. "Girls, we need a makeover, aisle one!"

The women standing to the side snapped to attention and surrounded their young charge en masse, and as they produced compacts filled with white, red, and black cosmetics, they sat Asami down on the small footstool in front of the display case and began painting her face.

Stepping aside to afford them more space, the elder struck upon an idea, and turning to one of the younger initiates standing to her side, she asked of her, "Jhu-Li, would you happen to have one of those fans we hand out on Kyoshi Day?"

A young girl, over the past six months under the guidance of she and her more experienced peers, this recruit in particular already showed a great deal of promise, smart, resourceful, a quick learner, and natural leader; this new recruit in particular had the makings of a Grand Mistress someday. Rifling through a large bag of supplies without looking, she soon produced the items as quickly as requested with a respectful bow. "Actually, I have two of them, Grand Mistress."

"Thank you, 'Jhu, you pull off the most magnificent things." Shaking her head, the older woman reached out and took the items, marveling with admiration, "I believe that if I asked you for a kitchen sink you'd be able to pull one out of that bottomless bag of yours."

Zhu-Li took a glance inside the canvas bag. "No, I'm afraid I don't have a sink in stock, Grand Mistress," She lifted a hefty silver object from the bag, holding it aloft in her nimble fingers while still peering inside at its contents. "I _do_ have a faucet, however."

Raising an eyebrow and choosing not to ask why in the world she would actually _have_ something like that in the bag at all, the Kyoshi warrior turned and handed Asami the two, neatly folded, gold painted paper fans. "Here you are, little one, the tools of our trade."

Thrilled with the new shiny toys, Asami enthusiastically said, "Thank you!"

"There, now it's official, warrior Asami." With a broad smile, the green clad warrior placed her hands on her hips, admiring the impromptu face painting her compatriots executed. "Why, you're the spitting image of Avatar Kyoshi herself." She looked to her side and bowed to her companions, "Excellent job, ladies."

Walking towards the group with the back of his daughter in sight, Hiroshi noted, "Ah, there you are, sweetheart, I know that you'd like to stay longer, but just once, I'd like to _walk_ out of here instead of getting _tossed_ out for a change."

"I've been _there_ before." The elder Kyoshi warrior couldn't help herself, and she chortled with a reminiscent tone, thoroughly enjoying the quizzical look on the man's face. " _Usually_ it's a bar, not a museum that we're all getting thrown out of though."

Noticing her self-satisfied smirk, Hiroshi's eyes widened at the stranger's statement, and turning to face him, Asami enthusiastically held up her arm, proudly displaying the object in her hand. "Daddy, daddy, look!" She waved her folded fans in front of her and then gave him a hug, careful to mind her face. "They gave me two fans just like the Avatar's!"

"Goodness, I see!" Taking care not to mar her makeup, Hiroshi grinned as he pulled Asami's chin upwards so he could get a better look at her face, "Why, you look just like Kyoshi!"

"Better than that, papa!" Asami pushed one fan down the back of the collar of her dress and pulled the other open, striking a heroic pose. "I'm a Kyoshi warrior now!" Pointing politely upwards to her side with the open fan towards the woman beside her, Asami informed, "This grand mistress lady said so."

Hiroshi nodded his head in respect to all the women gathered. "Hello, how do you all do this evening, ladies?" Fixing his attention to who seemed to be their superior, he respectfully bowed. "Madam. I'm Hiroshi Sato."

The elder's eyes lit with recognition as she held out her hand. "Ah, yes, your daughter told me her last name, but I couldn't place it until you arrived. You're the gentleman I've seen in the papers as of late, you own that car company, correct?"

Hiroshi acknowledged as he grasped the woman's hand to shake, "Passenger vehicles are only one division of the company, but yes, ma'am, I own Future Industries along with my wife." Then he gently clapped his hand over his daughter's shoulder speaking with a jolly tone. "Of course you've already met our little Asami. You are?"

Distracted when he felt a hand gently slip over his shoulder, he turned his head to see the bright smile of his wife, her attention soon focusing on Asami. "Oh, I didn't know they were doing face painting today as well." Yasuko knelt down and playfully touched the tip of their happy daughter's nose with her index finger. "Why, look at you! You're absolutely beautiful, 'Sami, just like Avatar Kyoshi!" She smiled at her husband. "Did you spring for that too?"

Knowing what was coming, Hiroshi chuckled good-naturedly and Yasuko looked up at him as he gestured towards the women near him. "No, dear, but in addition to the makeover, it seems that our little engineer has also managed to charm herself a place within the ranks of the Kyoshi warriors this afternoon as well."

"The _who_?" She queried, and then it _registered_. " _ **The**_ Kyoshi warriors?" Not even noticing whom she was in the company of until that very moment, Yasuko's eyes pulled upwards from her family, she turned, her jaw dropped, and resembling a cat deer caught in the seductive glare of headlights, she was unable to utter a sound.

Getting over the initial shock, the overjoyed woman spun around, shook her husband by the shoulders, and looked down at her daughter before turning back to gawk at her childhood hero, gushing while gesticulating wildly, "'Hiro, 'Sami, do you know who this is?"

Remaining museum patrons stared at the overly excited woman as they passed by, nowhere nearly as enthused _or_ interested as Yasuko was as she pointed towards the earth kingdom celebrity with two shaking hands, wide eyes, and a huge grin, "Do you _know_ who this **is**?"

Her fellow patrons didn't seem to care as much as she did as they quickly hustled away, each one giving her a wide berth along with looks that clearly questioned her sanity.

Paying no further regard to them, her attention swung back to the Grand Mistress as she flung her arms upwards, almost yelling at the famous Kyoshi warrior as she in turn, backed away a step. "Spirits! Do you have any idea who _**you**_ are?"

With a relatively good guess as to her identity, the other green-garbed women giggled at their leader's discomfort as she haltingly answered, "Well, yes, I _believe_ so, unless things have changed considerably since this morning."

Hiroshi nodded his head over his wife's shoulder, making eye contact with the rather surprised looking woman, and raising an arm towards his exuberant mate with a hasty introduction, he smiled. "This of course, is my wife, Yasuko."

In case the warrior in question had forgotten her identity, Yasuko gleefully reminded her, "And you're Grand Mistress _Zin_ Lee, the daughter of _Ty_ Lee who was Grand Mistress after Lady Suki stepped down!"

Placing a relieved hand on her chest, Zin joked sweetly with a feigned sigh of relief, "Oh! So _that's_ who I am." She pretended to swipe sweat away from her forehead with a chuckle. "I thought perhaps I was melon lord, king of all melons and queen of the cucumberquats."

Heartily, Yasuko laughed, "You're as funny in real life as you are in the papers!" In her exhilaration, she nearly danced in place as she recited the short list of the Kyoshi warrior's more well-known accomplishments. "You rescued crown prince Iroh from the Hurricane Straits pirates last year!" She held her hand to the side, pointing towards the display case holding the legendary weapon her young daughter inexplicably lusted after. "You recovered Deathsong and brought it back here _just last week_!" She balled her fists in front of herself in joy. "When I was around Asami's age, I collected newspaper clippings of all of your adventures and put them in my scrapbook," She scratched her head and then amended, "Well, actually, I _still_ do that now, but you were my childhood hero!" She grinned widely, "I wanted to be just like you!"

No stranger to fans, no pun intended, Zin smiled, and any other time she'd be thinking of ways to politely excuse herself, but the woman's barely contained excitement seemed to be genuine, and for a change, it was actually sweet and rather charming. "Well, thank you, but I can't take full credit for the majority of those adventures because I never did any of those things alone." She held up her hand towards the women standing to the side and behind her, respectfully giving them their due. "Most of these ladies have been along on many of those missions and have saved my life more times than I can count."

Yasuko became more animated as she enthusiastically continued. "Oh, I _know_! When I was a kid, all I wanted was to go to Kyoshi Island, become a warrior, travel to all the places you've been, and help you all do your duty!" Her thoughts immediately springing to Bumi's classic joke, Zin willed herself to not laugh as Yasuko's eyes rolled upwards rapturously. "I would pretend I was you while patrolling the city in my mother's nightgowns and face cream looking for bad guys and people to save!"

In her elation, surprisingly enough, Yasuko noticed the questioning expression on her hero's face and made a hasty explanation. "I don't do that _now_ as a grown-up or anything because that would just be _weird_." Zin's eyebrow cocked as Yasuko corrected herself. "I mean I still try to help people of course because that's the right thing to do, just not _dressed up_ like you, not that your Kyoshi warrior garb isn't lovely though, because that's some stylish fabric you're wearing." She waved her hand towards Zin's robes demonstratively, "I especially love the gold cording because it represents your honor and the courageous blood running through your veins, and it _really_ makes the green _pop_." One of the women behind the earth kingdom legend burst out into loud, uncontrolled laughter and Zin shook her head with a smile as Hiroshi put his fingers on his left temple and massaged it.

Everything his wife said about her early years was true, and granted, Yasuko's passion was one of the many things he adored her for, but sometimes, when on a roll, she had trouble reining it in.

All that sugar she took in earlier clearly wasn't helping, and in her childlike exuberance, Yasuko had managed to yet _again_ , develop a case of adorable, yet crippling verbal diarrhea, and from the looks of things, it was _not_ getting any better.

"As you well know, during the depression it was tough all over, so as everyone else, my family didn't have much money, so I made kimonos out of whatever I found lying around the house and fans out of hornet-flyswatters so I could wage my never ending battle against the forces of darkness." Zin pursed her lips and drew a deep breath through her nose at the thought of this energetic woman as a young child, because if she was as hyperactive then as she was now, evil must have been scared shitless. "My parents couldn't even _keep_ a swatter around because of me; it used to drive my grandmother nuts because she didn't have anything to kill the flies crawling on the dumplings _or_ grandpa with."

With covered mouths and shoulders shaking, some of the warriors had to turn away for a moment to collect themselves, and Zin herself was forced to clear her throat so she wouldn't laugh after she observed Asami and her father share a concerned glance, then back at Yasuko.

"I actually had a map of the world _nailed_ to the wall in my room that I tore out of an issue of Four Nations Explorer, and I would put pins in it so I could follow where all your adventures took place after I read about them in the newspaper!" Yasuko gushed as she pointed upwards, "My _favorite_ escapade of yours is when you captured that rogue dragon with Fire Lord Zuko, General Iroh, and your boyfriend United Forces Commander Bumi!"

Glancing at them, Zin's fellows gave one another knowing looks and sideways smiles at the mention of the United Forces commander and her face grew warm.

Though they tried to conceal it, seemingly _everyone_ knew about her on again off again romantic attachment to Avatar Aang and Lady Katara's eldest son.

Though they cared deeply for one another, and she was regretful that their relationship never became more permanent, it _was_ for the best. They had sworn duties neither one of them would have been happy to abandon, it would be unrealistic to think a marriage would survive the time and distance they would be required to spend away from each other, so ultimately, they loved each other enough to let the other go.

After how hard he worked for it, she would _never_ ask Bumi to give up his command in the United Forces to live an agrarian lifestyle on Kyoshi Island she knew he would hate, and in turn, he knew she loved leading the Kyoshi Warriors, and would not be fulfilled living the transient life of a navy wife.

That was not to say that an understanding had not been reached, however.

Though the demands of their responsibilities separated them, over the years they still managed to run into each other on shared missions or during social functions and _rekindle_ their bond, though now, Zin was simply grateful her face was painted matte white to hide the crimson blush that currently _roasted_ her face.

Grateful for the distraction, Zin pointed upwards to the skeleton hanging from the ceiling. "Actually, that's the dragon's skeleton up there," She glanced down to Asami before continuing, "Before you ask, no, we didn't take its life, it lived in a fire nation zoo until it passed away of natural causes several years later."

Shocked, Asami asked with a worried tone, "Why couldn't you put it back in the forest where it belonged?"

"In the fire nation wilds, dragons hunt large wild game, such as boarcupines, sea serpents, or elephant koi, but this one was behaving unnaturally, eating smaller livestock on the edges of the Earth Kingdom and roaming much too closely to where people lived. Fire Lord Zuko and Grand Lotus Iroh wanted to release the dragon somewhere it couldn't hurt anyone or destroy property, but after its capture, we discovered it had a fractured skull and jaw that healed incorrectly from a severe injury. The damage was permanent, and that was the reason why it preyed on domestic livestock herds; because it couldn't catch anything else." She pointed towards the skeleton hanging above. "Actually, if we hadn't trapped that poor dragon when we did, it would have either starved to death, or been killed when it eventually strayed too close to a village while hunting."

Asami bore a serious expression on her face, clearly concerned for the animal's fate. "What if the dragon wasn't happy living in a zoo though, or if people were mean to it?"

She placed a comforting hand on Asami's shoulder. "Not to worry, Grand Lotus Iroh _loved_ dragons, he and his nephew helped to save the last wild ones from total extinction." She looked Asami in the eyes as she gestured upwards. "I promise you, they both made sure that dragon was well cared for, and lived a good life until it passed." She smiled. "Actually, quite a few dragons living today can trace their lineage directly back to this one female, including Firelord Zuko's companion dragon, Druk, so though her required captivity was sad, it benefited the species by adding to its numbers."

Satisfied it wasn't abused, Asami wondered, "How did you catch it?"

The terrifying encounter was more complicated than she could do justice to, so Zin chose to give an abbreviated explanation, insane as it sounded. "We caught it using a dulled boarcupine quill, a smelly sandal coated in stewed sea prune juice, the Sunday comics section of The Republic City Times, the anchor and chain off a scuttled fire navy warship, and a flute with a split reed."

Everyone in attendance stared at the Kyoshi warrior in unbelieving silence, all but Asami who had her finger on her chin seemingly lost in thought, and then she said brightly, "Oh that makes sense."

Even Asami's parents did a double take as Zin asked with surprise, "It _does_?"

Asami counted off with her fingers, "Dragons eat a lot of dead animals too, so you put the boarcupine quill in the ground and stuck the stinky sandal and prunes on it to make a bad smell like rotten meat that the dragon would think it was food it didn't have to hunt for. Since dragons can see color like people do, you used the only day the funny paper is in color to create motion and bring the dragon closer. You made a loop with the boat chain to form a snare, and when the dragon poked its head though the loop to bite the stinky sandal and paper, the chain tightened around its neck, and when the dragon pulled it to fly away, it made the anchor drag into the ground so it couldn't."

To everyone's astonishment, Zin nodded. "You're right, but what was the broken flute for?"

Asami shrugged not so sure herself but venturing a guess. "To make dying animal sounds to attract the dragon?"

Wondering if Bumi had managed to sire any children she was unaware of, Zin offered a compliment. "You're a mad genius, Miss Sato."

Hiroshi beamed, "She's _already_ in third grade."

Zin placed her hand over her chest in genuine surprise looking down at the girl. "My goodness! Really?" Asami merely nodded shyly. "That's impressive!"

Asami beamed, the happiness at the coming evident in her voice as she informed, "Mommy and daddy say that I have to work real hard and be a good example because I'm going to be a big sister soon."

Hiroshi's face cracked with a wide grin and Yasuko's cheeks lightly flushed with pride as Zin's eyes lit. "Well, it seems that congratulations are well in order!" Zin shook the proud parents' hands, then Asami's.

"I can't _wait_ until the baby gets here!" Asami said with all the confidence in the world, "The magic badgermole is going to bring me a little brother, mommy said that it _could_ be a girl, but I want a brother!" Crossing her arms with a frown, she added, "I have to wait for nine whole months for him to get here though, that's how long it takes for the badgermole to tunnel from the factory under the mountains to come to the house and install the baby in mommy's tummy."

Eying her husband, Yasuko knew they couldn't explain the true mechanics of how her pregnancy occurred to their innocent daughter, but that overly elaborate magic badgermole silliness was completely Hiroshi's doing. There were _major_ holes in his explanation, but Asami was asking questions with impatient regularity, and she couldn't think of anything better, so she just went along with it.

Zin and Yasuko shared a look and then at Hiroshi, and Zin wondered with humor, "Yours?" He looked upwards, and unable to resist, Zin shrugged, addressing Asami with humor, "Sounds reasonable."

Hiroshi looked upwards while nervously rubbing the back of his neck, and after his wife gave him a last look, Yasuko gratefully seized the opportunity to change the subject. Taking a flyer with information about the earth kingdom exhibit from her purse, she clutched it in front of her chest. "I know this is asking a lot, and if you don't do this sort of thing, I understand, but may I please have your autograph, Grand Mistress? For my scrapbook?"

The warrior nodded, recognizing the need for aid after the touchy subject. "Of course you may, and please, Mrs. Sato, call me Zin." More star struck than before, Yasuko's eyes lit as Zin took the piece of paper, studying it for a blank space.

"Oh, my spirits, I can _die_ now!" Yasuko squealed with delight as Zin looked back up with a grin. "I always dreamed of meeting you one day, but I can't believe that we all have _actually_ gotten speak to you and all the other Kyoshi warriors!"

Zin chuckled, "Well, it has been a pleasure meeting all of you today as well. " She would have teased the poor man in front of her a little, but like most men living in the world at that moment, he seemed to be in enough trouble as it was, and it was the duty of a Kyoshi warrior to make things better, instead of worse.

Clutching her hands in front of her, giddy with excitement, Yasuko requested politely, "Could you please sign it to Yasuko? Yasuko, your biggest fan girl?" Chortling happily at her own joke, she repeatedly poked the piece of paper Zin was pressing her pen to. "Get it? _Fan_ girl?"

"Yes," Zin chuckled, signing the paper exactly as requested as she answered, "I see what you did there, Mrs. Sato."

As Zin finished and handed the leaflet back to the animated woman in front of her, a tall man in a suit walked up, speaking deferentially while his subordinates waited a courteous distance away. "Excuse me, Grand Mistress, I'm sorry to interrupt, but the museum is now closed." He politely motioned to Asami, Yasuko, Hiroshi, and then the display cases holding the Earth Kingdom artifacts. "Chief Beifong and officers from the Republic City police department have arrived to aid in securing all entrances of the museum, and I am afraid I must ask these remaining visitors to leave so we may begin the process of packing the exhibition items and officially transition them to their respective parties for safe return."

Noticing the disappointed look on the face of her youngest guest, then most notably, her mother's, which looked like she had just broken up with her, an idea struck Zin as she motioned to the Sato family to step forward. "If it is quite alright with you, Mr. Yang, these three are with us, and I will personally escort them outside along with the Avatar's artifacts shortly." Hiroshi's look was one of surprise, but both Asami and Yasuko glanced at one another with wide smiles and then back at their benefactor gratefully. The elder woman cocked a playfully suspicious eyebrow towards Asami and winked at her while pointing her thumb. "You may want to keep a close eye on _this_ young lady though; big trouble _often_ comes in small packages."

Asami's parents laughed as Asami snapped one of her fans open and giggled. The curator in turn, pronounced with a playful timbre and respectful bow towards the little girl along with a formal tone, "I wouldn't dream of tangling with a Kyoshi warrior so formidable, so with your promise of protection, Grand Mistress, I shall leave you ladies to it and Avatar Kyoshi's belongings. When all the items are secured, I will meet you in the back near the loading dock with the chief of police, and we will sign the papers officially transferring the items under your care from the museum's possession back to yours." When Zin nodded, he then motioned to the workers behind him with two fingers. They moved forward with hand trucks and carts with wooden crates filled to the brim with excelsior and straw atop them to begin the painstaking process of safely packing the priceless curios, the curator walking towards the front doors to greet the additional security detail.

Zin's attention back on her guests, she found Yasuko's gaze alternating between Asami's freshly painted face and then back to her as she nervously rubbed her forearm. Sparing the sweet woman from asking the question it seemed she was _dying_ to ask, Zin smiled having an idea of the answer before she asked. "Since you have such an interest in our ways, and we've already painted your daughter's face, would you like to have yours done as well, Mrs. Sato?"

Completely forgetting about their dinner reservation, and needing no further persuasion, Yasuko answered wholeheartedly, "Yes, please!" As an afterthought she placed the tips of her fingers on Zin's forearm and requested, "Ooo, by the way, please, call me Yasuko!"

Zin laughed, pointing towards Mrs. Sato with her head. "Girls, we need another special, for Yasuko over here!"

She turned to her husband and with a delighted whisper and pointed towards Zin behind her hand. "She _knows_ my _name_!" Shaking with laughter, Hiroshi watched his giddy wife enthusiastically clap her hands and eagerly sit on a bench seat along the wall, happy as could be, while the other Kyoshi warriors massed around her and began applying white makeup to her cheeks and lining her eyes with black and red while Asami watched on.

While watching, Zin slowly shook her head with a wry smile. "She's _crazy_ happy right now, isn't she?"

Hiroshi smiled and admired his joyful wife. "She's just crazy."

Chuckling, Zin wondered, "Would you like to make it a clean sweep of it and be made up as well, Mr. Sato?" With a hint of mischief, she ended, "Chief Sokka of the southern water tribe set a precedent for such years ago when he trained in our arts with Grand Mistress Suki."

A look of surprise decorating his face, Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe was known as a rather masculine, powerful man. Unable to imagine the famous non-bender of Team Avatar, and a founding member of the Republic City Council festooned in feminine looking robes and makeup, Hiroshi blurted out, "He did?"

Zin made a dismissive motion with her hand, rolling her eyes upwards with a smile. "Oh, _yeah_ , uncle Sokka _loved_ playin' dress up!" Hiroshi's widened as the woman beside him expounded. "He would often train with Grand Mistress Suki and the rest of the warriors to hone his skills in between his duties and missions, and as a sign of respect and to honor the rules of our order; he would train in full Kyoshi warrior uniform along with them."

"That's interesting," Hiroshi nodded. "I didn't know that."

"He had _great_ fashion sense too." Zin humorously quipped, "His bag _always_ matched his belt!" Glancing at Hiroshi, she continued more seriously. "Chief Sokka is the one who taught all the Kyoshi warriors how to use makeup for camouflage, both in natural and urban environments, along with how to alter distinguishing features, simulate aging, and affect perfect disguises for work in the field. Stealth is an asset, so nowadays we prefer to go in plainclothes in order to blend into our surroundings and leave as quietly as we went in if we can help it." She motioned down towards her robes. "The traditional Kyoshi warrior garb we wear today garners attention that we don't necessarily want, so our robes are mainly donned for public gatherings, honor guard, and official government duties such as these."

Hiroshi answered respectfully, "Well, thank you, Grand Mistress, but as much as I appreciate the offer, I believe you and your ladies have their hands full with not only my daughter, but my wife as well." While Zin and Hiroshi watched Yasuko get her face made, the excited woman barely able to sit still, he turned to his side. "Thank you again for allowing us to stay a little longer." He nodded towards the display case to his side. "Asami loves that sword, she was worried to death while it was missing, and she was upset that today was the last one of its display, getting a few more minutes with it will lessen the sting of its departure. I can't begin to thank you for the kindness you've shown all of us today."

An idea sprung to mind as Zin graciously replied, "It is our pleasure, getting to meet with people such as you remind us of the reasons why we do what we do."

His wife's thrilled voice carried across the gallery as she enthusiastically waved at him. "Oh, honey, I wish we brought the camera!" When the warriors were finished applying her makeup, Yasuko got up and admired the job in the mirror, eyes shining with unadulterated joy. "I am **never** washing my face _again_!" Looking at her smiling husband's reflection in the distance she asked a fully loaded question, "How do I look?"

Hiroshi smiled lifting his face towards the reflection. "More frightening than usual, dear."

Studying him in her peripheral vision, Zin muttered quietly, "You're a brave one."

Yasuko thoughtfully added while turning her attention to Zin's reflection in the mirror, "Is it _really_ true you know how to kill a man with _only_ your pinkie finger, Zin?" Hiroshi's eyes widened, but the Grand Mistress and the other warriors laughed when she asked, "Can you teach me how to do it?"

"No!" Hiroshi said with true horror, his head shaking negatively at the idea. "She'll try it out!"

Yasuko rolled her eyes and then gazed at Hiroshi's reflection in the mirror. "Not on _you_." Only serving to make the laughter around her louder, Asami handed her mother one of the golden fans gifted by her new friends, and Yasuko dramatically snapped it open, striking a dashing protective pose alongside her daughter and the artful women who painted their faces.

Zin placed fingers on her mouth as Hiroshi shook his head with a wry smile. "Today is my wife's birthday, and though Asami has enjoyed herself immensely in your company, in all honesty, I have to say that this is the best present Yasuko has ever gotten in her entire life." Happy, simply because his wife and daughter were, He noted, "In fact I think you just made her entire year."

Zin smiled; glad to have actually done some good that day that did not require an exhaustive search for a missing person or lost item culminating with violence in one form or another. "Well, promotion falls along our duties to preserve the traditions begun by Avatar Kyoshi, and to promote the culture of Kyoshi Island along with our cadre of warriors." Humorously she quipped, "Quite frankly, this is the only fun we've had helping guard the Avatar exhibit the entire time we've been here this last week." She raised her head towards Hiroshi's family. "I've really enjoyed the company of your daughter this evening too; she is quite an intelligent, sweet little girl."

Hiroshi nodded. "Yes, she is. Yasuko and I are so proud of her."

"May I say that your wife is something else as well?" Zin motioned towards Yasuko, who had her arms around the warriors and Asami, the group gleefully laughing together, Yasuko waving at them, every tooth showing. "Who doesn't enjoy meeting a _fangirl_?"

The pair watched Asami and Yasuko interact with the other women in the group with smiles as they demonstrated their weapons, and then holds and blocks for a few moments until an armored woman with a serious countenance walked into the main gallery with five officers following behind.

Zin's attention soon turned to their leader, and as the public servant approached, she bowed respectfully to her, honoring the disciplines of good manners and professional courtesy. "Good evening, Chief Beifong, how do you do this evening?" The chief of police simply crossed her arms, lips firmly set, her steely jade gaze scrutinizing the Kyoshi warrior with a skeptical look. "On behalf of all the Kyoshi Warriors, I wish to thank you for the generous hospitality you and your officers have shown while we have been in Republic City."

Lifting an eyebrow, the newly appointed chief of police held up her hand as she moved past her colleague, and brusquely suggested, "Can the diplomat act, Zin, I've already _seen_ it."

Zin held her right hand over her heart, only fingers touching her chest, and knowing full well, Zin innocently stated, "Why Chief Beifong, I have _no_ idea _what_ you are talking about."

Lin placed her fingers on her forehead in an exasperated manner; she didn't even _know_ why she _bothered_ as she turned to face her.

"Oh, really? That tavern in Omashu?" Dryly, Lin expounded, "The brawl you, Bumi, _and_ uncle Sokka got into that night in the haiku club in Ba Sing Se?" The chief snorted, "Lastly, lest we forget, as though anyone truly ever _could_ , in Yi after that circus animal fiasco, and it hasn't gotten any _more_ believable now that you're _here_."

Zin sighed wistfully. "Always the flatterer, Lin." Forgetting the near orgasmic pleasure it was jerking Lin Beifong around, it took everything Zin had to keep a straight face as she stated with falsely innocent incredulity, "I don't care _what_ that stingy old poetry bat said, dirty limericks _do_ count just as long as it's five, then seven, then five syllables. In addition, I had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the platypus bear and all those rabiroo getting loose either!"

Sworn to secrecy because the statute of limitations weren't up yet, Lin's mother, along with _her_ mother Ty Lee, and aunts Liu, Lat, Lao, Lin, Lum, and Woo were all to blame for that _last_ episode.

"You were present for **_all_** of it that was _enough_." Lin cut her childhood acquaintance a suspicious look. "I can't believe that you and your _associates_ have managed to stay out of trouble while you've been within the city limits for _this_ long." She muttered the last bit under her breath, but with enough volume so that her friend would be _sure_ to hear it, " _I suppose because your useful idiot isn't here to help._ "

Zin's eyebrow arched with mischief and a chortle, "I've never needed _anyone's_ help to get into mischief, especially Bumi's _._ " Zin defiantly crossed her arms. "And he's _not_ my idiot," Grinning sideways, she ended saucily, "At least not _all_ of the time."

Her nose wrinkling at the indelible memory of what she and Kya accidentally walked in on years before on Air Temple Island in the lemur shed, Lin shook her head with horror. _Obviously_ trying to bait her, as usual, Lin drew a long breath through her nostrils and exhaled slowly through her pursed lips in the effort to remain calm, a technique Kya taught her as a child to help curb her temper. Though she cut her squinting emerald eyes at her, it was successful enough as Lin walked past the Kyoshi Warrior with a surprisingly neutral look on her face. "Just let me do my job in peace for once, okay? If I want to see a comedy act, I'll _go_ to the _nightclub_."

Nonchalantly, Zin addressed the officer's back with a smile. "Whatever you say, _Pookie_." Lin's head snapped towards her, and if looks could kill, Zin Lee would be pushing up dandelion-daisies as she merrily chirped with a happy grin, "All I know is that your aura has _never_ been _pinker_!"

Hiroshi Sato's eyes widened and his eyebrows steadily migrated upwards at the incredibly informal exchange, and as he looked from one woman to the other, he unconsciously took a step away from the Kyoshi warrior to his side.

Growling with disdain at the hair-brained idea of auras and Zin's usual tomfoolery, Lin turned to inspect her surroundings, and despite the fact that she'd only been there a few minutes, she was already looking forward to seeing the back of her old friend.

Never one to drink, Zin Lee could certainly drive _anyone_ to it, and muttering under her breath, Lin sighed wearily, "I need a smoothie."


End file.
